‘I thought I was doing right.’ The
old man was plainly distressed. ‘They were a good local
company, so I thought. I even knew one of the directors, Linda
Wilson; the one who has gone missing – known her family for
years. It looked like a great chance to provide for the boy.’
His gaze shifted to the photographs on the battered dresser.

The reporter didn’t smile at the
description of the farmer’s son, for although now over forty
years old, to the farmer, his son would always remain a boy.
Indeed, where his mental capacity was concerned, he would stay
a child until he died.

‘My wife isn’t well, and both of us
are getting older. Our son can be a handful to manage, even
for someone younger and fitter than us. What concerns us is
what will happen when we’re gone. So when they offered us this
share deal it seemed too good to miss. If we could earn a tidy
sum from the investments like they promised, we’d be able to
set it aside to help with the cost of the upkeep when we’re
not around. That, plus the value of the farm, would be plenty,
we reckoned. Instead of which it looks as if we’ll have to
sell up just to clear our debts; the money we’d invested in
those shares has gone.’

The Netherdale Gazette reporter
looked sympathetic. ‘Can you tell me what happened, Mr Shaw?
With the shares, I mean?’

‘They did all right to begin with.
I kept getting reports about the companies I’d invested in,
and the share prices seemed to be moving the right way. The
profit forecasts were good, so I was happy with the advice I’d
been given by Bishopton Investments. The only thing was they
hadn’t sent us any share certificates. That should have made
me suspicious, but it didn’t. Not until it was too late.’

‘How long was it before things
started to go wrong?’

‘A few months – six or seven maybe.
The bloke we’d been dealing with said he’d been conducting a
review of our portfolio and thought he could make one or two
improvements. He suggested three companies that would offer
better prospects.’

‘And that didn’t make you
suspicious?’

‘Why would it?’ Shaw’s tone was
defensive. ‘It seemed like they were looking after our
interests, so I was happy to go along with it. The only
drawback was the minimum investment they needed for the new
shares was higher than the original amount we’d put in. Even
that didn’t make me suspect anything, so I borrowed money from
the bank to top up our original outlay. It stretched me to the
limit, but I was confident the risk would be worthwhile.’

He looked round at his familiar
surroundings, and the reporter noticed a tear in the corner of
Shaw’s eyes, heard the tremble of emotion in his voice. ‘Now,
it looks as if we’re going to lose the lot unless this court
case produces a miracle. Five generations my family’s farmed
this land. I always knew I’d be the last. Our elder son and
his wife were killed in a car smash, and my granddaughter’s
not one for farming. Our youngest isn’t up to it, as you know,
but despite that I hoped we’d end our days here. Looks like
that isn’t going to happen, though.’

The reporter was to remember those
words later, but for the time being merely made a sympathetic
noise, halfway between clearing his throat and coughing. He’d
heard similar stories several times already and his
investigation was far from over. The others hadn’t been as
poignant, but the dreadful losses were beginning to mount up
to huge sums. ‘Do the police think they’ll be able to recover
any of your money?’

The farmer shook his head. ‘They
have to catch the bastards first. Even that won’t be easy,
they reckon. Apparently, when they went to the firm’s
premises, the buggers had cleared off and taken all the
records with them. There was the bloke selling the shares, but
the ringleader was Linda Wilson. She’s the one behind it, and
now she’s gone abroad, or so the police say.’

‘They don’t seem too optimistic
about your money by the sound of it?’

Shaw frowned. ‘No, and the
detective didn’t say as much, but he implied it was as much my
fault as theirs.’

The scandal rocked the community.
North Yorkshire had never experienced anything quite like it.
Most of the residents within the dale heard the news first on
Helm Radio or read it in the leader of the Netherdale Gazette.
The editor had some difficulty getting his paper’s legal
advisors to agree the headline, let alone the content of the
article.

‘BIG FRAUD SUSPECTED AS B.I.G. GOES
BUST.

Bishopton Investment Group, whose
advertising slogan ‘Thinking investments? Think B.I.G’,
attracted many small investors to the local financial services
company, was today placed in the hands of receivers. The
Gazette understands that the insolvency practitioners
appointed to handle the receivership called in police
immediately after examining the books, fuelling rumours of
widespread malpractice already circulating.

Nobody was available to comment,
either at the receivers’ offices, Bishopton Investments, or
the local police station. However, a reliable source informed
our reporters that the sums involved could run into millions.
We understand that concerns about what was happening at the
company were first raised by one of the senior financial
executives at Wilson Macaulay Industries.

Bishopton Investments was formed in
1984 by local businessmen Stephen Wilson and Duncan Macaulay,
co-founders of Wilson Macaulay Industries. The investment
company remained independent of the rest of the group. Linda
Wilson, company secretary and granddaughter of Stephen Wilson,
along with Peter Macaulay, grandson of Duncan Macaulay, were
still involved with the company at the time of the collapse.
Mr Macaulay refused to comment on the appointment of the
administrators, or the rumours regarding financial
irregularities. All our attempts to contact Ms Wilson have
been unsuccessful, and we understand that the police and the
receivers are anxious to locate and interview her.

In a statement, local police
highlighted the extent of the fraud. ‘Our investigation has
revealed that large sums of money have been systematically
diverted from the company’s funds to offshore accounts. We
believe this was made possible by a corruption in the
company’s computer system which allowed one individual to make
the necessary alterations. All the changes were authorized by
the company secretary, Linda Wilson. However, efforts to
locate Ms Wilson have proved unsuccessful. In addition to the
theft from within the company, we are also attempting to
locate another executive of Bishopton Investments, Mark
Tankard, with regard to worthless shares that were sold to
investors over the past few months.’

Despite the best efforts of the
police, and international arrest warrants being issued for
Linda Wilson and Mark Tankard, no trace of them was found,
apart from a sighting of Linda Wilson boarding a cross-channel
ferry in Hull, and confirmation from hotels in Amsterdam and
Paris that the fleeing executive had stayed there. Later,
after funds diverted from Bishopton Investment Group and those
from the sale of worthless shares were traced to a bank in the
Cayman Islands, police there confirmed that Linda Wilson had
stayed in a hotel several months earlier. Enquiries confirmed
that the bank account in question had been closed following
the withdrawal of the money, but there the trail went cold.

By the time the hearing to wind up
the affairs of Bishopton Investment Group took place, no
arrests had been made. The detective leading the inquiry
admitted that all attempts to trace Linda Wilson and the
missing share-pusher had failed.

On the day of the hearing, when it
became apparent that no recompense would be forthcoming, the
old farmer left Netherdale County Court and drove home. The
foreclosure on the farm would be enforced within a week. Later
that afternoon, he picked up the phone and dialled a local
number.

‘North Yorkshire police,’ the
constable intoned.

‘My name is Arthur Shaw, of
Manygates Farm. I have just suffocated my wife and son. Will
you please send someone as soon as possible?’ He replaced the
receiver, and as the young police officer was still wondering
whether the call was a hoax, Shaw placed the twin barrels of
his 12-bore under his chin and squeezed the trigger.

REVIEWS

‘I have
a continuing fondness for Bill's Nash and Miranova - they
are as good as any of the major Crime teams in the current
round of TV adaptations, and one wonders if this wonderful
duo will ever make it to the screen.